


Just A Flour Covered Spider

by Mrs_Understood



Series: How can you not adopt Peter Parker [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Fluff and Angst, Gen, Light Angst, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Understood/pseuds/Mrs_Understood
Summary: One thing that nobody seems to understand about Peter Parker, is that he can bake. Not like, 'I can handle a box mix brownie' but more of a 'I couldn't sleep and so I made a five tier cake from scratch with no recipe' kind of bake. The reason his skill is so greatly underestimated, is he has an apparent inability to follow any set of rules. Whether it is a word count on an essay, or his 'Sleepy Spider System (SSS)', ensuring that he is in bed by ten o'clock on school nights, he never seemed to remember the guidelines. This prompts an interrogation, naturally, by a deadly assassin and a sleep deprived geunise. At a truly terrifying hour





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey ya'll. this is my first time ever posting on A03, so let me know what you think. I would love any critisisum or comments, but I'm only 14, so go easy on me! haha  
please Also, I read every single comment, and they make my day, so feel free to share any thoughts :)

One thing that nobody seems to understand about Peter Parker, is that he can bake. Not like, 'I can handle a box mix brownie' but more of a 'I couldn't sleep and so I made a five tier cake from scratch with no recipe' kind of bake. The reason his skill is so greatly underestimated, is he has an apparent inability to follow any set of rules. Whether it is a word count on an essay, or his 'Sleepy Spider System (SSS)', ensuring that he is in bed by ten o'clock on school nights, he never seemed to remember the guidelines. This prompts an interrogation, naturally, by a deadly assassin and a sleep deprived geunise. At a truly terrifying hour.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o

Tony just wanted water. He had no plans on walking into a warzone, let alone one in his kitchen. But that seems to be his destiny when he was greeted with a huge whirlwind of flour and cinnamon when entering the tiled room. It took him several moments to prose that the could of powder was an ingredient, and not, in fact, poison.

"What the-" he trailed off, seeing a certain spider stirring a huge bowl on the wall, of all places.

"Oh, hey Mr. Stark. What are you doing?"

Tony prided himself on being quick witted, but his words failed him not. Peter was thoroughly covered in flour, making his dark eyes contract starkly against the white background.

"почему ты такой громкий?" Tony got incredibly close to shrieking at the sudden russion spy appearing right behind him!

"Английский нат" peter reply, without so much as blinking.

He must be hallucinating.

"Right,sorry." Nat said, seemingly unsurprised by peter new language."Peter, why are you baking so early in the morning?"

"It's morning already?" he said, trying and failing to look shocked.

"Only on a technicality." Tony muttered. Accepting that he was never going to go back to sleep after this, he begrudgingly dusted off the coffee maker, sighing heavily.

"So peter," he began, "you plan on explaining to us as to why you are baking at," he paused to look at the microwave clock, "1:17 AM?"

"I have a good explanation!" The culprit exclaimed.

Silence

"Okay, so I have an explanation." The boy said, looking in between his two trainers.

"We are dying to hear it, паук." Natasha said.

This started an avalanche of words.

"Okay, so I was trying to sleep, I really was. But then I kept hearing this tapping noise. And it was like, super quiet, which worried me, because usually noises are so loud, that if something is quit, it's usually like, a bomb or something. And so I went to go investigate, because if it was a bomb, my spidey senses would let me know, right? So I go looking, and it was actually this tree tapping on a window, across the street. And so I was like, cool, cool, I'll just leave it alone, but by then I was up, and I heard a scream a few blocks down, and so I was like, well sense I am up, I may as well patrol, and so I did that for an hour or two, but then I came back in because it was cold and so-"

It was around then that Tony realised that Peter didn't plan on stopping.

"Peter."

"Yeah?" the kid said, looking up slightly panicked. He had sense dropped to the floor, to transfer the powder into a mixer of some sort.

"Breath." he commanded. The boy rolled his eyes, but seemed genuinely out of breath, so Tony felt justified.

"Sorry. Anyway, patrol freaked me out, and I couldn't sleep, so I'm making a cake." he finished lamely, cracking an egg.

"What freaked you out, паук?" the spy inquired. Tony had almost forgotten she was there.

"Oh, ummmm- nothing really." he must have planned at leaving it there, but one look at Natashas face must have reminded him of her extensive training in interrogation.

"I was like, looking for someone who needed help, and there is a lot of creepy stuff going on bridges, plus, great for flips, so I went there and this lady was sitting on the rail..."

This sentence clearly caused both adults to tense. Tony couldn't speak for every hero ever, but every hero ever had seen a fair amount of suicided, and Peter interacted with daily crime more than any other hero he had heard of.

"I um, I managed to get her down but it just-" he cut himself with a shake. "Never mind."

The kid hurried around the kitchen. He had since emptied his batted into a variety of pans, and was now making what looked like icing in the kitchen aid.

Natasha looked at the spiderling with a piercing gaze. She could see right through him. Not that you needed to be a super spy to see how tense he was. The kid was bizarre, because even though he adamantly tried to hide what he was feeling, you could see the emotions almost written on him, rippling just beneath the surface.

Now Tony understands why teachers have so many gray hairs, just being around all the emotions was draining.

"Питер, ты планируешь рассказать нам, что на самом деле произошло? Потому что, если нет, у меня есть сыворотка правды ..." Tony needed to learn russian ASAP, because this was infuriating. He could guess at the nature however, because the kid tensed instantly. Well, that and he started crawling up the wall.

"Thats a nope." was all the warning Peter gave, before rocketing himself out the sunroof.

"Peter, it's 15 degrees out, get inside!" Tony yelled after him, causing Natasha to snicker.

"What?" he said, somewhat defensively.

"You have a dad voice." The redhead said, smugly

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Of course he knew what she was talking about. Thankfully he was saved from having to defend himself farther when the timer rang, preceding Peter falling back into the room at top speed.

"Hi," Peter panted. "I totally just fell off the building."

"You what?" Tony said, slightly panicked. He narrowed his eyes at Natasha, who was mouthing Dad voice behind peters back.

"Don't sorry about it. I'm sticky, remember?"

As Peter talked, he removed five separate cakes from the oven, placing them, one by one, in the freezer to cool, and started doing something fancy to the frosting, that Tony did not have a name for.

"What is that your doing?"Tony said, attempting to ease the jittery boy in front of him.

Peter, who was adding something sticky from a bowl, turned to face him.

"Marshmallow fondant."Peter said, enthusiastically. His face must have appeared blank, because Peter launched into an explanation, whirring around the kitchen as he spoke, his words a blended slur of excitement.

The cake was done around 3:30, and tony was staring in awe. Okay, sure he had realized that Peter was a good baker several hours ago (Nat had ducked out around two), but the finished product was spectacular. He had made an intricate webbing pattern, stretching all across the bass and winding up the tiers, interrupted by delicately piped spiders. And it was huge. At least three feet high, and who knew the area. He looked at the bouncy kid, who was staring at him with big doe eyes.

"You like it Mr. Stark?" he asked sincerely

"Yeah, I do kid."

This spider was going to kill him sure, but Tony would die happy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After about three hours, and endless speculation, they were no closer to figuring out who had made the cake, and Steve was pretty sure it would remain a mystery forever, until Bucky, who was now significantly more alert, seemed to have an epiphany.  
“Steve, I’ve got it!”  
“What, you know who made it?”  
“No, but I know how to find out,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a follow up of everyone's reactions. I hope you enjoy:)

Steve rogers kept to a very strict schedule, he liked the order to it, helped him understand the world that he was living in just a little bit better. Without fail, he would get up at 5:00 AM to train, not that he strictly needed to, but it was therapeutic, endorphins and such. This meant that he was almost always the first one up unless of course, Tony pulls an infamous one-two-the-four nighter. One time he didn’t sleep more than 10 hours in 12 days, which may have been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life. He suppressed a shudder at the memory of the manic billionaire as he padded down the halls quietly. He glanced at his watch, wincing once he realizes he’s been running for the better part of two hours. Making his way into the kitchen as subtle as he can, he slips in and stops in his tracks.  
Because there is a giant cake taking up half of the counter. Seriously, it must have been three feet tall and was decorated delicately, with a pearly colored frosting, the weird kind that they make at professional bakeries (Fondant) and the decorations were so detailed they were slightly unnerving. The black piped webbing wound around it in lines so thin they actually looked like they might blow away. He must have been staring at it for a while by the time he was snapped back to reality, rather rudely, by a high-pitched shrieking coming from the… ceiling.  
“Okay okay, I’m- AHH, I’m going! Geeze.” With that, Clint dropped rather inelegantly in front of him, picking what looked like white rocks out of his hair.  
“Don’t piss Loki off, he takes his books very seriously.”  
“Are those… bones in you hair?”  
“Probably, it’s Loki. Did you order a cake?” The assassin asked, looking baffled.  
“No.’m assuming you didn’t.”  
Clint shook his head in affirmation, studying the cake with great interest as he absentmindedly turned what looked like a tooth over in his hand, although Steve wasn’t convinced he wasn’t sleeping with his eyes open, he had seen Nat do it once during a dangerous stakeout, where they had had practically zero covers, and it had freaked him out so much that he then couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she had taught him. He briefly wondered if Tony did that, it seemed like a more reasonable explanation for the little sleep he got. Actually, maybe the whole team does it. What if he was the only awake one during their meeting? That would be-  
“Move.”  
The command startled both of them, further cementing his ‘sleeping with eyes open’ theory. He spun around in time with Clint, to see Nat walking across the kitchen, making a bee-line for the coffee pot.  
“What’s with the cake?” she said, matter-a-factly, nodding her head to the masterpiece on the counter.  
“We don’t know, there isn’t a reason to order it,” he answered.  
“Well, it wasn’t ordered. Look, there’s flour in the sink, and on the ceiling.”  
“Huh,” Clint replied.  
“I think he’s sleeping,” Steve informed.  
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”   
“Who could bake like that? And when?”  
“Well, I was asleep by 1 and the kitchen was empty then.” She continued her inspection of the cake, taking in the intercept details. “Tony couldn’t have done it.”  
“Yeah, he started a fire last time he tried to boil eggs.”  
“Well, yes, but look at the piping, it’s shaky,” she said, Steve peered closer. The spider web design had cleverly disguised the lines to look intentional. “Tony doesn't let his hands shake, he’s a mechanic, and not having the lines be straight would drive him insane.  
“Maybe, uh, Bucky?” Nat just raised an eyebrow.  
“Okay, fair.”  
“Also, wouldn’t you have heard him if he were to have gotten up? You’re on the same floor, and you are not a light sleeper.”  
“That's true- how do you know that?”  
“Reasons.”  
He was about to respond, when Tony strolled into the kitchen, looking alert enough for Steve to tell he hadn’t slept that night. He somehow had gotten good enough at staying up that he was more functional in the mornings with zero sleep than 8 hours.  
“Hey, Nat, hey drummer boy.”  
“No.,” he said, pointing a finger at Tony, who just laughed while he poured his coffee.  
“Do you know made this?” Steve asked, getting to the cake. Tony sent a questioning look a Nat before he smirked, sipping the coffee, which looked scalding hot.  
“How do you drink it like that?” Nat asked, looking at him with a reprimanding expression.  
“I don’t know. Bruce thinks I have scared my tongue so bad that I can’t feel it.”  
“Wait, really, you can do that,” Clint asked, finally snapping awake.  
“Yeah.”  
“Wait, you know who made this, don’t you?” Steve asked, for some reason now deeply invested.  
“Maybe,” he replied, using his most infuriating sing-song tone ever.  
“You do know!” Clint exclaimed. Nat excused herself to the living room.   
“I can neither confirm nor deny.”  
“Wow, nuclear submarines, real classy Tony,” Nat called from the other room.  
“What is a nuclear submarine?” Steve asked, genuinely baffled by there conversation.  
“How do you- they were made in 45…”  
“Well, I have other things to worry about then suberin models.” he was going to continue, but he was suddenly being moved aside from his spot leaning on the pantry door.  
“Hey!” he said startled by the movement.  
“Sorry mortal, I needed pop tarts!” Thor boomed, directly in his ear.  
“Come on dude, morning voices, please,” Tony said, wincing and rubbing his head.  
“That’s why you should sleep.” steve reprimanded, ignoring the snickers coming from Clint and Nat. Despite what they said, he wasn’t the mother of the team, he just tried to keep them alive during and after the missions, because literally, nobody on his team had any self-preservation instincts.  
“Yeah yeah, Mr. ‘8 perfect hours a night’.”  
“It is vital to your health that you-”  
“Sure grandpa, you go to bed at ten, I don’t care.”  
“I was the same age as your father in the-” He was cut off by a loud thud, drawing his attention to the corner of the room, where Peter appeared to have materialized suddenly.  
“Where did you come from?” Clint questioned.  
“Ceiling.”  
“What… what were you doing on the ceiling?”  
“I fell asleep and- wait, what time is it?”  
“Almost 8.” Steve supplied.  
“Shoot, it’s a school day!” Peter said, grabbing a banana before sprinting to his room, presumably to get dressed. Steve chuckled at the panicked demeanor of the teen. “Mr. Stark I’m gonna swing to school! BYE!” Called Peter, followed by the sound of a window slamming in his room.  
“Isn’t his mask still in you lab from last night?” Nat asked from the sofa.  
“Shit- Peter!” Tony said, already calling his number halfway out the door, while Clint laughed in the corner.  
“Wait, who made the cake!” He called after the mechanic, but he had long since disappeared.  
“He’s not gonna tell you,” Nat added, unhelpfully.  
“I bet I can break him down,” he said confidently.  
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes until they heard the elevator ding behind them, causing several heads to whip around to see who was joining them.  
“Bucky!” Clint and Thor yelled in perfect unison.  
“Ugh,” he replied, causing Steve to chuckle. 70 years later and he still wasn’t a morning person.  
“Look, it lives,” Nat said sarcastically. Bucky responded appropriately, by throwing his metal arm at her, causing her to let out a not-very-badass shriek that she would definitely be denied later.  
“Who made the uh… thing?” He asked, gesturing to the cake.  
“Did you just forget the word for cake?”  
“Fribbler,” Bucky muttered into his coffee. When it was to early he tended to forget what was or wasn’t normal slang, which they all unanimously agreed was adorable. Tony had once asked him if the same would happen to him if he was up too late. Steve had replied that wouldn’t happen because he went to bed at the perfectly respectable time of 10 PM.  
“Why are you up so early?” Steve asked. If left to his own devices Bucky could sleep through an entire day and wake up the nest completely unfazed.  
“Everyone was being so damn loud, it woke me up.”  
“Isn’t your floor like, six storied down?” Nat asked, rocketing the arm back at Bucky, who let it hit him in the chest and fall, before slowly setting down his coffee and retrieving it, putting it back on with a practiced ease.  
“Your point being?”  
“Nothing.” She said innocently.  
“And nobody but Stark knows who made the cake. And he is a stubborn asshole.” He said, catching his friend up.  
“Why does Clint have bones in his hair?”  
“Shit, I thought I got those all out.”   
0o0o0o  
After about three hours, and endless speculation, they were no closer to figuring out who had made the cake, and Steve was pretty sure it would remain a mystery forever, until Bucky, who was now significantly more alert, seemed to have an epiphany.  
“Steve, I’ve got it!”  
“What, you know who made it?”  
“No, but I know how to find out,” Bucky explained that they could, if they asked nicely, probably convince FRIDAY to show them the footage from the previous night in the kitchen. When Steve heard the simple explanation, he almost beat his head on the counter.  
“How the hell did it take us this long to figure that out?” he was about to tell Natasha, but upon turning around, he saw that she had slipped out, which confused him because she had been almost as invested in it as he was.  
“FRIDAY, would you please rewind footage to last fight, after Nat went to bed?”  
“Of course Mr. Rodgers, Sir would like for me to deliver the following message,” a recording of Tony’s voice cut threw “HOW THE HELL DID IT TAKE YOU,” There was a dramatic pause, and Steve could practically see Tony checking his watch “THREE AND A HALF HOURS TO ASK FRI? Message ended.”  
“Hey FRIDAY, send him this,” Bucky said, starting to raise his middle finger.  
“Buck!” Steve yelled at him, flushing while his friend cackled in a rather bold manner.  
The nearest TV flickered to life, and they watched intently as Nat went to bed, preparing some kind of tea and switching off the light, which they would only see because of the switch, the camera’s video completely unaffected by the change. the footage seemed to speed up for a bit, judging by the light cast on the floor, until it stopped, and a figure crawled through the window, around 1:30 and-  
“Holy shit,” Bucky said, completely enthralled in the video. With the SI cameras, it was impossible to mistake the red and blue spider suit for anything else.  
Peter, still completely suited up, crawled across the ceiling, before dropping down into a crouch on the floor. He shoots a web to the sunroof, pulling it closed, and in so doing, tilting his head almost directly at the camera. He had sense pulled his mask off and there were a few shallow cuts on his face, but more importantly, his expression was twisted with grief, causing Bucky and him to share an uneasy glance at the boy’s distress. In an instant, Peter had pulled it closed and left.  
The video speeds up, covering 15 minutes in two according to the timestamp, where Peter reappeared. His hair wet and his face almost healed already. He started to, very carefully pull out baking supplies, the video speed up again, until Stark appeared in the corner, him and the teen talk for a second before another head appeared and,  
“SHE KNOW THE WHOLE TIME!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Please comment & kudos, they get me threw school ;)


End file.
